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Can creatives direct?

Advertising creatives have been turning their hands to directing for some time (with varying degrees of success). But could Juan Cabral's 'gorilla' mark the rise of a new breed of uber-creative? Kunal Dutta investigates.

Television advertising is enjoying a creative revival at the moment. But
despite all of the praise bestowed upon Fallon's Juan Cabral (one of the
creative minds responsible for the revival), his latest work has left
critics scratching their heads.

For just as Cadbury's "gorilla" left many struggling to pinpoint why it
worked so well as a TV ad, "trucks" has left many wondering why it
doesn't.

Many questions have been raised. Was the airport set-up too complicated?
Is any sequel to such an astonishing first ad always destined for a
blunt reception? Or was a second attempt to write and direct the same
script always likely to fall short of greatness?

In directing circles, that last point is hotly debated. Some believe
"trucks" was a strong idea let down by its realisation. "It looked
bloody good, but did it have the subtle touches of climax and build of
an experienced director?" one director and former creative asks.
"Compare it to the car chase in The Bourne Identity, then decide."

Nonetheless, the fact that the ad, which will still be one of 2008's
best, was written and directed by Cabral makes him a rare breed of
creative. Indeed, many wonder if he will emulate his previous boss Andy
McLeod, the co-founder of Fallon London, now at Rattling Stick. McLeod
has joined an esteemed ad alumni that turn their hand to directing and,
through a mix of talent and fortune, eventually make a successful career
of it.

Despite the many that try each year, only a select few break through.
These have gone on to become big names in the commercials directing
world. They include Frank Budgen, who worked as a copywriter and a
creative director while directing his own ads at Boase Massimi Pollitt
before co-founding Gorgeous in 1997; Tom Carty, who had a 15-year spell
with Walter Campbell, first at Dorland, then at TBWA and Abbott Mead
Vickers BBDO (where the pair created Guinness "surfer"); and Vince
Squibb, the director of Heineken "lobster", who remained at Lowe
Howard-Spink for 20 years before joining the same roster in 2006.

They are part of a wider list that, outside of Gorgeous, includes Tony
Kaye, Tony Barry and Mark Denton. Time after time, their services are
called upon by agencies keen to bring a script to life. But what is it
about them and particularly their experience as a creative that makes
them right for the job?

Leaving aesthetics to one side, the answer has something to do with
their understanding of advertising's practical mechanics, its purpose
and its grittier politics. Some of these can come as a shock to
directors without previous advertising agency experience.

Combining explosive creativity with a piece of work that is rooted in
the client's business objectives is difficult for many non-advertising
directors to square. Trevor Beattie, the creative partner of Beattie
McGuinness Bungay, explains: "They understand the need to sell, as
opposed to the thrill of making art for art's sake. Their presiding
references lie in the process of creativity for advertising, not the
style of the Coen brothers or film noir of the 40s and 50s."

With film still faring as the ultimate ambition of many a creative mind,
it follows that some directors view advertising as a cash cow and a way
of fuelling their Hollywood aspirations.

But perhaps they shouldn't flatter themselves too quickly. As James
Studholme, the managing director of Blink, points out, advertising
demands its own set of aesthetic and practical observations that the
untrained eye can miss: "The best ads are those where the idea and
execution are perfectly balanced and neither are lost site of." He cites
The Guardian's "points of view", the 1986 ad directed by Paul Weiland,
as the perfect example.

"Good directors that have worked in advertising will get a script with
the faintest germ of an idea and do everything within their power to
bring that out. Others are not always trained to see that and can find
themselves distracted by the look and feel of the final execution,"
Studholme says.

The ability to bring the creative idea out of the script makes such
directors invaluable. Many become extensions to the advertising process,
moving the script into the next phase of creative development.

Little wonder Weiland describes the directorial process like "delivering
someone's baby". "You inherit a script, bring it to life and, once
you've done that, you're expected to hand it back to the agency and
client," he says.

But it's not just about the approach to work. Knowledge of the
advertising process makes the tough task of public relations and
diplomacy just a little easier. It is a job that involves retaining
ultimate overall control and responsibility, but also constantly being
answerable to clients, creative teams, agency TV producers and even
account men holding the purse strings. The ability to manoeuvre around
these factors to win support, and retain ultimate control, is a
diplomatic skill that comes from years of training.

And when things really don't go your way, previous experience can soften
the blow. "Creatives, like clients, are entitled to a view," Mike Wells,
the managing director of HLA, says. "Directors who have worked in
advertising tend to realise that you are going to lose certain battles
along the way. Overall, they tend to emerge less bruised by the
vicissitudes."

The political curve balls of directing and the need to retain the
highest aesthetic standards are just the beginning. Graham Fink, the
executive creative director of M&C Saatchi, remembers his spell
directing at Paul Weiland Films: "Some creatives would be very open to
your ideas. Then there were others that were territorial and didn't want
anything to be changed, or ideas that had been so over-researched that
you were unable to move them on."

Fink believes that the talented directors are able to ingratiate
themselves and earn universal trust quickly: "They naturally overcome
the challenges and are able to collaborate, so that everyone is pushing
the project on to a better piece of work."

But that can only be better if directors are given the leeway to shape
(and even rewrite) the work. "If you call Chris Palmer, you have to be
open to his ideas and be prepared for him to tinker with your script. If
you've written a funny joke, Jeff Stark will make it funnier," Fink
says.

But regardless of the freedom (or rigidity) with which a script passes
through the production process, digital is changing the rules. The
shrinkage of production budgets, combined with the growth of virals,
digital and experiential media, is forcing creatives to think more about
the finished work than ever before. Little wonder Cabral is part of a
21st-century generation of uber-creatives that can go further than
scamps, markers and broadbrush ideas to creatively steer a piece from
concept to realisation.

Denton, the director of Coy! Communications, attributes this to how
technology has evolved in recent years. "Film-making and directing used
to be a skill shrouded in mystique," he says. "Now, you're seeing a new
generation of creatives that have grown up with a video camera in their
hands. Many, too, are waking up to the fact that if you don't pull your
socks up and take an interest, you risk having your £100k
commercial bettered by a 12-year-old uploading their work on
YouTube."

So, the renaissance creative race is on. But Rooney Carruthers, the
creative partner of VCCP, urges caution. He warns that this is not open
season for any bored creative looking to try new things: "Most
successful directors of this sort were the absolute creme of creative
talent at their agencies. They would be the ones visualising the ad from
start to finish, winning awards and often inputting as much into the
final edit as the director. Often more."

It is a point vindicated by Weiland, who recalls working with Alan
Parker as a copywriter at Collett Dickenson Pearce in the 70s: "I'd
constantly be suggesting ideas to Alan, who would usually dismiss them
as rubbish. But after some pleading, most of them would end up in the
ad. That's when I knew I had directing potential."

And those that are successful? They will have a creative mind that can
see the finished work at its earliest stages. They'll be the shrewdest
politicians: smart enough to delineate advertising and art, lucky enough
for some early success and talented enough to stand apart from the
millions of movie- makers that have crawled out of the technological
revolution. By these measures, Cabral's future is made.

ANDY MCLEOD, RATTLING STICK

The two disciplines have so much in common. It seems to me that all the
best commercials directors are either ex-creatives, or could have been
creatives if they'd had the inclination.

The best creatives have the ability to spot a good idea when it comes
knocking. As do the best directors. The best creatives will then
promptly fall in love with that idea, which means they're willing,
driven even, to guide it lovingly from page to screen, safeguarding it
along the way from bandits and kidnappers. As do the best directors.

The best creatives have the ability to tell the story of that idea in a
succinct, effective way, without confusing it and diluting it with
sub-plots and asides. As do the best directors. The best creatives have
a belief in the power of a creative idea well told to sell a product. As
do the best directors. The best creatives hate bandwagons. As do the
best directors.

The roles seem almost interchangeable: the best creatives can direct,
the best directors can create.

Don't tell me that Ringan Ledwidge couldn't think of a good idea for the
next Levi's ad. Or that Danny Kleinman couldn't write a smart, funny,
relevant idea for John Smith's.

Certainly, if they'd been looking for a job in a creative department
when I was a creative director, I'd have tried to hire them. Fredrik
Bond? He'd fit into a creative department like a hand in a weird velvet
Swedish glove puppet.

And going in the other direction, the list of people who prove the point
is long, from Frank Budgen and Chris Palmer down.

As far as I can see, the distinction between "creative" and "director"
is only going to become less and less defined. The way broadcast media
platforms are changing, and client requirements change to suit the
landscape, writers who can direct, directors who can write, might find
themselves in a pretty useful place.

Let's hope so, anyway.

TONY BARRY, ACADEMY

I didn't go into directing because I thought I had some sort of artistic
vision that would benefit the film world as a whole. Quite the opposite.
I went into it because I wanted to keep learning.

When you hit the ceiling in a creative department, you're in danger of
repeating yourself. Do you start an agency? Take the big agency
management role? Or join the ranks of working with and learning from
some of the most talented people in the creative pool? For me, it was a
no-brainer.

Naturally, there are skills that cross over. The ability to tell a story
in 30 or 60 seconds being the most obvious. Another useful skill is the
ability to make a decision. In both disciplines, you have a lot of
people - client and agency personnel in an agency, crew in directing -
who are relying on you to have an opinion. Instantly. Ideally, the right
one, but most importantly, an instant one.

But the truth is, experience, any experience, is going to add to your
abilities as a director.

So, yes. Sixteen-odd years of seeing the creative view, the consumer
view, the planning, financial, client and even the client's wife's view,
adds up to, at the very least, an ability to see the bigger picture.

Any drawbacks? Well, your first instinct as an ex-creative is to view
all scripts purely on idea. In a way, that's not your job anymore. Of
course, you need to like the idea, but it's more about seeing the magic
in the detail. A nice performance or a charming way to play out the
story.

Ultimately, though, as a director, what you have to offer is the telling
of a story skewed through your particular tone of voice. A voice honed
by your experiences both in work and in life itself. Whether that
background is in advertising, theatre or plumbing: your life is somehow
there on the screen. A point best illustrated by one of my first
directing efforts, an MTV anti-drink-driving spot.

It featured a bunch of idiots pissed out of their heads in the back of
taxis.